


et cetera

by atimi (bertee)



Series: CWRPF: horas non numero [7]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Ancient Rome, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-07
Updated: 2009-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 10:09:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/atimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen looks for some comfort. (Set directly after the action of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/477392">horas non numero</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	et cetera

"Stay still."

Stretched across the bed on his stomach, Jensen lifted his head. "Is that an order?"

"Yep." Jensen felt the mattress dip down as Jared moved to straddle the backs of his legs, one clammy hand coming to rest on Jensen's hip to steady both of them. "You're going to lie here and stay still while I take care of you. You are not," he continued, grip inadvertently tightening to just the right side of painful, "going to get up and try to do everything yourself, okay?"

It didn't take much for Jensen to nod.

His whole body ached, lines of fire and bruises striping his back in a painful reminder of how long it was since he'd last been physically disciplined by one of his masters. (Master Murray had rarely cared enough to remember to feed him let alone enforce any behavioral rules, while Master Butler had preferred methods of correction more suited to Jensen's position in his household.) He was tired from the day's errands, tired from the nervous terror that had carried him back to the house, tired from the counted blows of the switch across his bare shoulders, and drained of the last of his energy by the long hours without food which made up the latter part of his punishment.

And so, as confusing as it was when Jared tried to stop him doing his job, Jensen obeyed and lay still.

He was fairly certain he wouldn't have been able to stand upright anyway.

Above him, Jared exhaled in relief at his compliance. "Thank you."

A free citizen thanking a slave still didn't fit with Jensen's view of the world but after years of Jared's inexplicable courtesy, he'd learned to accept it (but never to expect it.)

The cushions dipped again and Jensen turned his head to see Jared's big hand dwarfing the small pot of oil he lifted from the table. Knowing the routine well after his tenure in Butler's bed, he took care not to jostle Jared as he inched his legs apart and angled his hips for ease of access.

Behind him, he felt Jared freeze. "What're you-" He could almost hear the click of realization but was surprised at the protest. "Whoa. Slow down there, Jen." A hand covered his tailbone, pushing him back down flat. "I know it might have escaped your notice but you're hurt and unlike _some_ people, I'm pretty sure that you being in pain and us having sex are mutually exclusive."

Jensen frowned. "But the oil-"

"Is for your back," Jared finished, a mixture of pity and compassion in his voice. "Sam recommended it. Said it was good for healing and you definitely look like you could use some healing right about now."

"I don't-"

His objection was curtailed by a whimper of pain as Jared's oil-covered fingers smeared a careful path between two of the welts on his back, avoiding the broken skin but not the bruises which felt as though they covered every inch of him.

"Shhh..." Jared murmured, not unkindly, and Jensen tried to unknot the tension in his shoulders, soothed by the reassuring weight of Jared's free hand at the base of his spine. He made another pass with the oil, covering the discolored skin before working it gently into the muscles, and Jensen groaned at the sensation.

"You okay?" Jared asked, concern now overlaying any teasing. "I can stop if it's hurting too much."

It would have to hurt a lot more before Jensen would ever want Jared to take his hands off his body. "It's fine," he stated clearly, trying to keep the wince out of his voice. "You- Thank you."

He knew Jared was smiling, that big broad sunny smile he wore when he'd done something right, and he couldn't hold back his own half-grin when the younger man replied honestly, "My pleasure."

The rubs and sweeps of his palm got harder, still avoiding the thin cuts where strokes twenty-seven, twenty-eight, and twenty-nine split the skin - Jensen was thankful that the slave who'd administered his caning had spared his arm on thirty. Like entering a hot bath, the initial pain of Jared's pressure faded to a more enjoyable warmth and Jensen relaxed into the softness of the huge bed, wondering absently if this was the kind of peace he helped his masters achieve.

Jared's hands worked his shoulders, massaging deep into the untouched tissue before moving down, touches lighter but just as searing as they seemed to push all the ill humors out of his body. He felt like a greased pig when Jared smoothed his hands down the curve of his ribs again and again, and smirked to himself at the comparison, nevertheless unable to think of a more appropriate way of describing being treated like this by one of his betters.

His brain slowed to the same pace as Jared's ministrations and he let his eyes fall shut, wanting Jared to come lay beside him but not willing to ask for any more favors after the unexpected generosity he'd already been shown.

One of the gods was evidently on his side, however, and he smiled into his crossed arms when he felt Jared settle his long body next to his own, bare skin pressed up against Jensen's side, hip, and thigh as he traced his back with tentative fingers.

"Do they hurt?"

The question was like a cool breeze in his ear and the standard answer flew to Jensen's lips just as easily, ready to say _no, they don't hurt, I don't hurt, it's fine, I'm available to serve_. That answer spiraled away before he was ready to open his mouth and instead he kept his eyes closed, treating the room and his companion as an extension of the safety of his own thoughts.

"Yes," he answered quietly. "Not all the time, not if I lie completely still, but yes, they hurt."

He wasn't sure what reaction he wanted but was suffused with inexplicable relief when he made a noise of sympathetic understanding, grateful that Jared could just know how the world worked rather than getting needlessly angry on his behalf.

"Do they hurt now?"

Eyes closed, Jensen considered the question. His back was tender from the massage and the welts tingled from the oil, but he wouldn't call it true pain.

"No. Not really."

A warm, wet kiss was pressed to the edge of his shoulder-blade. "How about now?" Jared kissed him again before he could answer, this time on the back of his neck. "Now?" More kisses, dropped down his spine like flower petals and Jensen laughed into the sheets. "Now?"

"Nope," Jensen assured playfully. "Not at all."

He laughed again at the wet sound behind him as Jared tried to wipe his tongue clean. "Eurgh. That oil smells nice but fuck, it tastes disgusting." He was still laughing when Jared buried his nose in the hair at the back of Jensen's head before kissing him there and deciding, "That's better."

Jensen almost wanted to roll over and offer Jared his mouth as a further improvement but changed his mind when the next kiss to his head had a touch of finality. He stayed quiet, simply enjoying the attention while Jared shifted back next to him rather than on top of him and asked with concern, "How long will they take to heal?"

In Master Bana's view, bruises didn't count as injuries. He doubted that was what Jared wanted to hear and so thought only of the cuts when he answered vaguely, "Five or six days." He shrugged. "I'm a slow healer."

"Hmm."

Before Jensen could even try to interpret what that meant, Jared sidestepped to a different subject, now tracing the skin between his latest bruises. "You've been beaten before."

Jensen swallowed. "You know I have."

"You've never told me about it."

_"I know I haven't"_ warred with _"I wouldn't have told you about this time either if you hadn't seen"_ as truthful but inappropriate responses to what wasn't even a question in the first place. He knew what his back looked like - in his first few weeks in his household, Butler had had a strange fascination with the spidery network of scars there and on his command, Jensen had provided a reluctant explanation of their origin - but he'd managed to skip over those particular six months every time Jared had dug into his past and he wasn't exactly eager to unearth them now.

However, while he was able to persuade and dissuade, flat out refusal was not a luxury open to him. "Do you want me to tell you?"

He could almost feel the sting of the _"Yes"_ which he knew was sitting on Jared's tongue, and closed his eyes again tighter, remembering the confusion of being smuggled out of what had been his home for eighteen years, the lecherous grin on the slaver's face while he was sold off cheaply by his fleeing mistress, and then a choking blur of hurt and helplessness, painted over with his own desperate promises of obedience, compliance, silence, and whatever else was demanded.

Shivering in spite of the healing warmth across his back, Jensen lifted his chin to rest on his folded arms and braced himself for Jared's answer.

"No."

His heart stuttered in his chest and he froze, holding his breath in disbelief until Jared confirmed, "Not unless you want to."

The heat of his mouth returned to the back of Jensen's neck, body pressed gently against his and clumsy feet rubbing against his ankle, and Jensen dropped his head to give him better access while he tried to process what had happened. His eyes were damp and he swiped his arm over them, staring at the wet smudges on his skin and willing his voice to be steady. "Thank you."

Jared's chuckle against his nape made him shiver again, this time feeling fired rather than chilled as Jared murmured with fond disapproval, "You still don't get it, do you, Jen? How this works between us?" He kissed his ear and spoke against his neck, "I know you're not free yet, but when you're with me, you can be. You can do or say whatever you want and I'm not going to hurt you for it." Jensen closed his eyes, not trusting himself to speak as Jared kissed his way down his jaw. "I love you," he whispered, slow and sincere. "I love you so much, Jensen."

His voice caught in his throat but he opened his eyes, whispering back, "I love you t-"

The declaration snapped off, brittle as a twig, in the quiet breathing that filled the slave dormitory and cold disappointment scraped through him as he took in the reality of his lonely cot and rough blanket. The clumsy shackle around his ankle clanked against the wooden bed leg it was chained to and Jensen bit down on a cry of pain when his movement jarred the throbbing welts on his back. Not wanting to wake the others, he kept motion to a minimum, adjusting position quietly and clamping his mouth shut to prevent any whimpers escaping.

Settling in as comfortable a position as he could hope for, Jensen ignored the ache now pulsing along his ribs and closed his eyes quickly in the hopes of slipping back into the peace of the dream.

He pretended those hopes never existed when he found that the images behind his lids had already faded to black.  



End file.
